Modric Takes Over

January 10, 2011January 10, 2011 / Alan / 3 Comments

You can tell the true value of a player by their absence. On Sunday, Luka Modric jogged purposefully on to the pitch at half time and proceed to transform a lacklustre Tottenham team.

Before and after – the footballing equivalent of a Head and Shoulders advert. Before – dry and dull, all the shine has gone, flecks of ugly debris all around. After – why, bright and shiny, I feel like a new person and the boys love it! Cue swishing of improbably thick and glossy mane, a suggestive look over fluttering eyelashes.

Troubled and toiling as the first period ended, unable to find a way through Charlton’s massed ranks, Luka took over. No fuss or flamboyance. Head down, into midfield, straight into the groove. He came deep to pick the ball up, moved it, then advanced 15 yards, more space, me again, come on, a touch, run again. Suddenly everyone is moving easily, freely, with purpose and energy.

This is what he does. Many players have fantastic skills, precious few have the ability to change totally the way 10 other players behave. And here’s the thing – he just gets on with it. Job to do, no time to pick up the pace of the game, I’ll alter the pace to suit me.

Before Modric...then Apply Well and Instantly...

It was no less remarkable for being against a League One team (is that what the Third Division is called? I still have to think about it). Charlton, buoyed by excellent support from the stands, closed us down remarkably well. Any pretentions to push us back gradually faded as the half went on, although they came close to scoring early on with a couple of balls across the box that stretched us unnecessarily. Nonetheless they erected a solid barrier in front of their back four and we seldom looked like scoring.

Credit to our opponents for an organised response but we also played into their hands. We have a fine squad but the absence of key men always shows. Harry’s team selection of a strong back four rightly gave few concessions to our lower league opponents and Defoe could provide some sparks up front. However, the midfield came unstuck, or at the least the two most experienced members, the ones we were supposed to rely on, did.

Palacios and Sandro, two defensive midfielders side by side, offered no creativity or inventiveness. An odd selection. Both seemed uncertain about where they were supposed to be. To his credit, Wilson looked for the ball and took up advance positions that didn’t suit him but once more he gave the ball away too often and when under little pressure.

I’ve always appreciated what he does and will be forever grateful for his work when we were at the bottom of the league. His was the single most valuable contribution to our rise up the table. However, he looks to have fallen behind our current levels. Simply put, it’s pointless winning the ball if you give it away again. Also, I still think he drifts around at the edge of the box when we don’t have the ball rather than tucking in closer to the back four. I counted at least three Charlton raids out wide when he was loitering at the edge of the box covering a run that no one was making.

..Modric Works Wonders! And It Shows...

Sandro looks a good prospect to me. Raw around the edges and too reckless with his tackling, nevertheless he’s mobile, hard to shift and confident in possession. He takes up defensive positions naturally and when we get it back can drive forward into space to turn defence into attack. He had a decent second half, sure of his place alongside Modric. I don’t want to either write off Wilson or make extravagant claims for the Brazilian, but with Palacios the man taken off at half-time, without being premature it was hard to escape the feeling that one was on the way up as another was falling in the opposite direction.

The rumours that Krancjar is on the move may be true after another poor performance. It’s hard to see why he’s wasting his considerable talents. He seems bulky and below peak fitness, and not that interested in doing something about it. He wasted this chance either to force himself back into the team or at last put himself in the proverbial shop window. His limited defensive abilities and lack of pace make it hard to see where he will fit into the present team. A real pity, he’s so talented.

As it was, he was asked to drift inside but we are used to having width these days and Benny didn’t overlap into the space he vacated. Then, Niko was gobbled up by the waiting Charlton defenders, shooting increasingly forlornly from further and further out, apparently oblivious to the presence of defenders between him and the goal.

Pav was in the middle of another of his ineffectual days. He dropped deeper to look for the ball and hopefully to shift Doherty and Dailly out of the back four but he lost control so often that they were largely untroubled. The ginger Pele therefore stood resolute and, well, not so much tall as slightly stooped. According to Wikipedia he’s not 30 til the end of the month…. Never the most agile of footballers, the Doc finally got it together at the start of one season, rather like Dawson started to blossom. Then he broke his leg in a televised match at Everton and was never the same again. He would have moved on anyway, he’s a lower league natural, but that leg break did him much harm. He’s not changed in the interim – first touch the ball slid two metres from his foot, but in the first half we kindly played to his strengths. We crossed it and he and Dailly headed most of them away. I liked the way he looked to the Park Lane at the end of the game and we gave a round of applause. He still feels it, being a Spur.

Enter Luka and we took them apart. For 15 minutes he was faultless. Just as I was about to moan about another aimless long shot, Townsend scored a debut goal, not the hardest shot but perfectly placed inside the post from 20 yards. Defoe was rampant, taking the ball right across the box before slotting home for the second, then the third from a rebound. We missed a few more and Cudicini made three decent saves but we were never in much danger. Like many sides, Charlton had the organisation but fell apart once they had to move forward. They have nothing up front.

It will be fascinating when Huddlestone returns, because earlier in the season this very different style of player made the team feel most comfortable. He and Luka could become a combination that dreams are made of, if Big Tom does more defensively. This could really be something big. And I don’t mean Tom’s tuchas.

Before the game the Charlton left back must have been delighted that Lennon was absent. Little did he know. Azza at his trickiest could not have given him a harder time. Repeatedly Andros Townsend took him on and took him apart. Twisting this way and that, right foot on the outside, left foot coming in, Townsend on this display had it all, including a couple of posey tricks and flicks to rub it in. A fine debut full of promise. He had good control, keeping the ball close while he ran at full tilt and as I said could come off both feet.

In other news, David Beckham is training not playing now, but by the time I finish typing this sentence it may all have changed, or he may be having twins. I don’t know. I’m less bothered by this than I am by Harry’s clear irritation on 5Live. When asked about it, he snapped at the interviewer.

“I don’t know what the issues are… and I don’t know the answer. I wish I knew…it’s sorted about above my head. I don’t think there’s a problem with the insurance, I had that wrong.”

Sounds like he’s in the dark and that Levy is pulling the strings. In playing matters the manager must have overall control, although Harry added that he said he would like Beckham at the club.

One reason for Beckham’s arrival is in this column by financial journo and Spurs author Martin Cloake:

“The news sent shares in the North London club shooting up on Friday. This morning, they are back down. Between the hot rumour and the cooling down, the team comprehensively beat Charlton to qualify for the fourth round of the FA Cup. This fact did not have the same affect on the share price as the rumour.”

http://www.dailyfinance.co.uk/2011/01/10/fa-gets-new-sponsor-beckham-update/

Does Moyes Read Tottenham On My Mind?

January 6, 2011January 7, 2011 / Alan / 30 Comments

David Moyes reads Tottenham On My Mind. Obvious. How else would he know that the best way to counter our attacking tactics is to give us a taste of our own medicine. I’ve been saying so for ages, and more fool the rest of the Premier League for not paying attention. Big Sam for one. Comes to the Lane with a revolutionary 5-5-0 formation, four down in a trice, sacked a few weeks later. Sam Allardyce – My Part In His Downfall. At least Tottenham On My Mind can take some crumbs of comfort from last night’s emphatic defeat by Everton.

From first whistle to last, we were never comfortable. Saha and Beckford’s movement, coupled with Coleman’s right side raiding pulled the back four all over the place and occupied the midfield to snuff out our attacking intentions at source. Said midfield were also strung wide apart to the point where Bale and Lennon were as far apart as Peter Andre and Katie Price. Later, as the match wore on, Lennon, Kranjcar and then Keane gradually faded from view like ghosts disappearing into the mists on the moor. Did they ever really exist? The apparitions on Most Haunted have a greater presence.

We witnessed a series of poor individual performances but this is one for collective responsibility. The midfield provided the back four with absolutely no protection, bar a few blocks and tackles from Jenas. Bale and Lennon should have tucked in more during the extended periods when we did not have possession, a fault that we’ve seen before this season, especially in Europe. If they don’t work back, the full-backs are unprotected and vulnerable. Hutton and BAE both had torrid times, Benny in particular as Everton repeatedly pushed down our right, and Hutton’s distribution was rotten, but defending is primarily a team affair. They should not have been left one on one with their opposite number. As a result we were treated to the slightly bizarre sight of Phil Neville as the flying full back, cutting the ball back from the byline. He and Coleman combined well, creating several two v one situations.

A Pictorial Representation of the Gap Between Our Defenders

In short, we were a mess. Saha had so much time and space to shoot, although his was a well-struck shot. With nothing in front of him, Gallas had to come way out of his comfort zone and Saha found the room behind him. This pattern continued throughout the game and great credit to an Everton side whose passing and movement made us struggle in the first half, then in the second we went under, never to bubble back to the surface. Overwhelmed, we held out only because in front of goal, Beckford is rubbish and Saha and others little better.

It’s a while since we’ve been as badly mauled. Saying that it had to happen sometime is in this case a little more than mere philosophising to excuse a defeat. We have been stretched badly on other occasions but managed to get away with it. However, this Everton performance was the best I’ve seen against us for a while now. They were superior in every department. They applied themselves much better whereas we looked jaded, and passed the ball extremely well. In contrast, in the second half we reverted to the bad old habits of conceding possession.

Yet if we had taken the chances that came our way the outcome could have been different. Equalising was straightforward enough, and without playing well we made other chances in a first half that ebbed and flowed, with first Everton then ourselves getting on top before Everton finished the half the stronger.

VDV was running wild and free, largely unfettered by the opponents’ defence. Modric also did some good work before fading. He was pressured hard in the second half by his opposite number. We made passes and half-breaks into the channels but missed or the ball was just cut out. Crouch once again delighted in the way he set up Rafa’s goal (he’s assisted 6 out of Rafa’s 11 goals) then infuriated by missing decent chances in the air and on the ground. That header in the first half – for goodness sake. The offside goal – what a waste. In the home game, Baines did the best marking job on him this season by tucking himself into Crouchie’s armpit and easing him off-balance. Did him every time. Neville sussed this by the end of the first half and the big man couldn’t handle it. If only he didn’t do things like that brilliant run near the end, we could consign him to the bin, but that’s what makes him so exasperating, the ability is there, it’s just that he fails to make use of it so often. Too often.

Half time provided some respite and a chance for Harry to regroup. Before the break, JJ was being bellowed at by Jordan and Bond. That may not be unusual – one imagines Jordan’s normal conversation as starting with the bellow and building from there. Also, Harry was taking notes – never seen that before, although he was using the same type of biro that I have in front of me. Me and ‘arry – two sprigs from the same bush, us.

Didn’t do any good. By the middle of the second half I lost count of the number of times that we gave the ball away. Luckily it was almost matched by the number of Everton missed chances, but in the end the goal was both inevitable and deserved. By this time, Everton were swinging it around like champions, we were bewildered. Bale was off injured. Neville gave him the treatment but no worse than the tackling he’s received earlier this season. Niko came on and was pathetic. An inexcusably feeble effort. If you can’t be bothered, just leave.

Gomes did well. He might have parried the second out wide but it was a fizzing shot. No chance with the first – credit to Saha for a firm, well-placed effort. Otherwise he had plenty to do, being unprotected and all, and he handled it all. In particular, he stood tall when Coleman was given the freedom of Merseyside, rather than committing himself early as he has done in similar situations lately, and this was a factor in Coleman’s miss. Hopefully with Tony Parks he’s working on righting that fault.

A forgettable night. Let’s console ourselves with the fact that Everton played really well, that we remain 4th and we took 9 out 12 points in 4 knackering games in 10 days.

A final more sobering thought. Perhaps our open style caught up with us last night. The idea lingers, that Everton were the first team to exploit fully a weakness in our play. The midfield have to be 100% to make it work, in terms both of going forward and when we don’t have the ball. I didn’t see the game but I strongly suspect the two teams at the Emirates didn’t approach the battle for the CL spots in quite the same way. Maybe we have to moderate our natural instincts for the long term good. One thing’s for sure – we can’t play like that again in the future.

The Rumble of the Seats On The Shelf

December 13, 2010December 13, 2010 / Alan / 13 Comments

The rumble of the seats on the Shelf echoed around the girders of the venerable old stand, growing into a roar as this tense derby tumbled headlong towards a climax. The rumble as the punters rise in expectation to catch every last fraction of a moment and their seats slam into the backrests, the clatter of anticipation as Bale, Luka, Lennon launch themselves onward. It’s the classic sound of the derby that took a while to appear but later, in the second half, as we freed ourselves from Chelsea’s pressure in a series of high speed counter attacks, was heard every few minutes, stilled as we stayed upright for the last five or so, the penalty save offering fresh optimism.

Although it’s a familiar sound, its character seems to have changed of late. No longer in hope, more of expectation. Chelsea were beatable: we entered this as slight favourites and have players who not only thrill the crowd, they are matchwinners too. Bale again, bursting 70 yards in the first half. I refuse to take my eyes off him. I want to savour every stride, full tilt at the opposition, his expression focussed but full of expectancy. I never want to get used to this. He’s so special, it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time, such is my delight.

Yesterday he did well but was cleverly marshalled by Chelsea. Fereira used all his experience, including a gentle bodycheck in the first half when Bale would have been clear, that failed to merit a booking but took him out with ruthless efficiency. His effectiveness can be also be measured by the space he gives others, notably Defoe who drifted wide left several times, into the space vacated by Fereira’s close marking. One pass from there led to our goal.

We have others able to step into the limelight. Modric was outstanding throughout, painstakingly making himself available time and again to pick up the ball from colleagues and either move it on or burst through the centre himself. As both sides attacked in an expansive game, Luka revelled in that space and where none existed, he made some with a swivel and close control. He’s a top quality footballer and an absolute pleasure to have in a Spurs shirt. In the past I’ve compared him to the great Ossie Ardilles, hunched skipping run, ball close to his feet and dictating the pace of the whole game as others move to his promptings. Modric has better stamina and a better shot, while he’s starting to approach the influence the Argentinean could exert.

This was a match that was finely balanced throughout. Both sides had spells on top but neither dominated for extended periods. Certainly both Spurs and Chelsea could have scored at almost any point. In the first half, Chelsea looked the most likely. Kalou and Malouda are perfect in turning 4-5-1 into 4-3-3 and although we had men back, the midfield and defence failed to pick up their runs from deep. Last week Birmingham scored from such a run but Chelsea wasted several good opportunities.

The feeling was, Drogba and Lampard would have taken one of those. Much has been made in the media of Chelsea’s injuries to key players but little significance has been given to our much larger casualty list. It shows how well we are able to compete that the media are barely noticing.

In the end, we scored first, a superb finish from Pav but his gorgeous first touch laid the foundations, taking the ball away into space despite a crowded box, then a fine swivel shot to the neat post.

Unfortunately as far as the strikers are concerned, and we tried all four of them, that’s about the last time I can talk about good control. Defoe was especially poor. At least three decent opportunities to make a break were wasted due to this deficiency, one in particular where he let Terry in with a chance when he should have been clean away. As it was, Terry and Ivanovic were consistently too powerful for our lot, brushing them off the ball with insolent ease, far, far too simply. We should have tried to get them on the turn more often and when we did, another recent failing, the poor final ball, appeared again. Hutton to Pav is one example that sticks out from the second half but there were others.

Second half, Drogba on, crank up the tension. Yet our back four came into their own in the second half. Palacios covered assiduously in the centre but he and Luka could have come back a few yards to shield their defenders, while again Bale and Lennon were adrift too frequently when Chelsea had the ball. Hutton and Benny, especially Benny, defended expertly. They too sit a little too far from their central defenders as a result of the lack of protection in front of them but both used their pace to deal with the many balls into the channels.

Hutton’s passing could have been more consistent but he linked well with the attack, giving us an extra dimension. He had space because the threat of Lennon and Bale kept Cole and Fereira penned back and that’s where Chelsea have to seek their width as the midfield are fairly narrow. Although our two wide men open up space for the opposition as well as us, their presence curbed a key offensive area that Chelsea usually employ.

Inside them, Dawson was immense, as if he had never been away. I was pleased to see him back but feared that a tough game such as this was a game too early – do this one when he’s match fit and has Gallas, fast becoming indispensible, alongside him. As it turned out, no need to worry. A towering performance. Finally, credit to Bassong for taking Drogba on. The Ivorian drifted onto Seb, presumably because he was seen as the weak link, but right from the first challenge, Bassong did not shirk from the physical contact, buffeting him about, refusing to let him turn and making the interceptions. Not everything worked, and he gave the ball away on three occasions in dangerous positions, but he refused to be over-awed.

The equaliser came from the other side, the left. No danger, Daws there and the angles sorted, but it squirmed over and through. There was great power in the shot but Gomes should have saved it. Ironically it came at a time when we had got on top again. I thought we had dealt with Chelsea’s pressure and were coming out the other side. Confident of our defence, a goal would come only through a mistake. I felt utterly deflated.

He made a couple of other good saves, notably from WP’s skimming header, then late on, as we pressed on the counter for a goal, another error at the death. I’ve not seen any replays of this or the game but it looked like another rash challenge. He’s a fine keeper who does not deserve the ridicule he received on 606 last night but diving at feet is becoming a weakness.

Then the hero, and be honest, you thought it had to be us with the winner as we dashed upfield, freshly invigorated. No repeat of Liverpool.

Before then, Keane had been rushing about in what could well be his last home appearance, earning cheap applause but doing little positive. Actually, that’s unfair – we need some energy, particularly as Harry’s strange substitution to have both Crouch and Pav made Chelsea’s task in defending that much easier. I really don’t see what that gave us.

A point in the end when we could have had three, or just as easily none at all. However, the lasting impression is a positive one. We took on the champions, were never overawed and certainly not outplayed. On the contrary, in another terrific football match we bravely and continually took the game to them. Sharpen up and the goals with come, and with them points and glory.

Always On My Mind: The Members Club

December 10, 2010 / Alan / 2 Comments

I’m stewing in the velvet lobby so I call Adriana. Businesslike, she marches down the corridor. Out of my earshot, the doorman remains unconvinced, then she looks him in the eye and imperceptibly cocks her head to one side. A squeeze of his arm and I’m in.

From the corner of his eye he watches her sway down the hall. His grin fades only when she turns the corner into the bar.

‘This is nice’, I say as she folds into the deep sofa cushions.

‘Lola’s a member. We were going over the layout for the book. The salmon was superb and it was too cold to move. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Guess I’ll have to get used to it’. She furrows her brow. ‘It’s great, really.’ I forget, Adriana doesn’t do irony.

She smiles uncertainly but, reassured, kicks off her shoes and pulls up her feet under her. ‘Sit down darling, it’s so cold.’

‘Chequers in Sutton,’ I go on. ‘Trainers.’ She looks unsure again. I push my Sainsbury’s carrier bag under the table and out of sight. ‘In the end, my mates went in ahead, then this girl brought out a pair of their shoes in her bag in return for us taking her friend in. Think she was only 16. I changed back into my trainers once I was inside. Don’t know what the fuss was about in the first place.’
She looks at me intently for a moment, her eyes wide in the gloom of the bar. ‘I never have any problem getting into clubs.’

It takes a while to be served at the bar, although it doesn’t seem very busy. A couple of advertising types are momentarily distracted from their tipsy creativity by the sound of Adriana’s laugh from across the room. When I finally bring the drinks she has company.

I beam with recognition and let out a choked gasp. Eventually, words. ‘I used to watch you every week. Fantastic!’ ‘I haven’t said ‘fantastic’ since I was 14. He smiles confidently, but not at me. ‘From the Shelf. Season ticket holder.’

‘At the Lane. 40 years.’

Finally he turns away and fixes me in the eye. For perhaps 10 seconds he looks, says nothing. Then he turns back to Adriana. ‘You’re so right,’ he says, ‘Morocco in October is perfect. Not too hot. Are you sure you’re not from that part of the world? It’s just your accent….’
I’m still standing, holding the drinks. I shift from one foot to the other. Eventually, I put them down and pretend to need something from my coat. The man smoothes out the sofa cushions and eases across.
‘Just off to the toilet’. ‘OK’, she says, without breaking the flow of the conversation.

When I return, the man has rejoined his friends on the other side of the room. Adriana plumps up the cushions. ‘Come, sit.’ She looks at me and laughs, suddenly hesitant. She says something and laughs again but I’m looking at the lock of hair that’s fallen over her eye.

‘Feel my hand, I’m cold.’ Her fingers edge out in that familiar way and touch mine. ‘You know him?’ she asks.

She purses her lips. ‘Don’t know why you like people that that. Thinks he’s got something, all talk. All he thinks about is himself.

‘You’re a good judge,’ I reply, ‘Overrated. Selfish’. A pause. ‘Cracking right foot, mind’

‘Sorry darling?’

‘I said I never really liked him.’

‘Neither did I. What is it about me, I always seem to attract these sort of men. Come closer, you’re all warm, warm me up.’